Hunt of Demons Chapter One

I'm writing this with my friend David, we switch chapters we wrote, I wrote this one:)

 

“Wake up. We’re leaving,” A voice whispers into Nadette’s ear. Groaning, she opens her hazy eyes to a girl standing at the foot of her cot, a smug smile pulling on her lips. “What? Why?” she moans closing her eyes again to relish in the sweet comfort of sleep. “Nadette,” Bonnie warns. Nadette can hear the sound of Bonnie’s foot tapping impatiently on the hardwood floor.

“You promised me you’d go with me into town today.” Nadette curses silently. She’d forgotten; mustering all the strength in her sore body, she slides off the cot, her night gown falling in a soft wave behind her.

Bonnie smiles, a sweet grin that makes her blue eyes crinkle and steps out of the room, pounding down the stairs. As Nadette fights the urge to collapse to the cot, she examines all of the other girls sleeping soundly. I hope the demons come back with a wanion, Nadette thinks as she silently curses the dreaming girls.

She never was a morning person.

Padding across the floor to the Maplewood drawers, Nadette pulls on a torn and stitched, faded white blouse, her favorite musty red skirt, faded and shredded from years of age. She doesn’t put on her shoes. They were torn and the leather straps had broken off ages ago. Weaving her hair in a loose braid down her back, she picks up her basket, and stamps down the stairs.

 

     ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~     ***        ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“I’m hungry,” a small voice says, muffled by the chaos of the crowd. Nadette turns, searching for the voice. She locks eyes with a small girl, maybe five or six, holding her belly and staring up sadly at an older boy next to her. Nadette bites her lip, she remembers the feeling…the hollow hole in the pit of your belly, where your body screams in pain. Nadette shivered.

Nadette! Come on, we don’t have all day!” Bonnie tugs on the sleeve of Nadette’s blouse, pulling her forward. As they walk, though, Nadette still can’t get the image of the girl with her hand on her belly, her skin sickly gray, skin sinking below her eyes.

 

Nadette remembered the first time she felt the hunger. She was eight-years-old and had been wondering the town late at night, looking for food. She didn’t know about the orphanage then, nor the Shelter. It was icy cold and her feet were raw from running. Thinking it couldn’t get any worse, a piercing pain went through her stomach, making her double back in pain. It felt as if someone was squeezing her gut, letting all of her energy seep out of her pores.

She crumpled to the ground, laying in fetal position, as the monster in her stomach let out a loud bellow that made her dig her nails into her skin. She lay there, for hours, shaken by the fear and pain. Mama and Papa always made sure Nadette’s belly was full. Not once had she felt such pain. But Mama and Papa are gone now, she had to remind herself. Nadette closed her eyes, her brow creased in pain, her teeth biting so hard in her bottom lip that it split. Then, in the ice cold of her world, her savior appeared. Two dirty feet stood in front of Nadette’s eyes, a dirty blue skirt swaying around the ankles. Nadette raised her head to the girl, a few years older, maybe nine or ten, her blond hair hanging in rat tails, her arms were covered in scrapes and scratches and she had a green bruise forming on her upper cheek. She was an angel. “Are you okay?” The girl asked; her foot tapping on the dusty dirt road. “Do you have parents?” The girl asked next. Nadette shook her head.

The girl bent down, and offered her a dirty hand. “Come with me.” “Mama told me not to talk to strangers,” Nadette replied weakly. “Well, your Mama aint here no more, now is she?” It was cruel, but it was true. Even though it stung, Nadette silently thanked the stranger for slapping the truth back into her. Nadette slowly took the girl’s hand, and was pulled up with unnerving strength for a girl so small.

“I’m Bonnie, by the way.” The girl…or Bonnie, cocked her head to the side, tangled blond hair swinging to one side. “You got a name, right?” “N-nadette,” she replied.

Bonnie put her dirty hands on her hips, “Well, Nadette. I know a great place for you to stay. It’s called the Shelter. They’ll give you a nice warm cot and a roof over your head, even some clothes too.” The monster in Nadette’s tummy grumbled in reply. “What about food?” Bonnie scratched the side of her neck, “We have to find food ourselves, but if we keep the rooms clean they pay us enough money for food each month.” Nadette couldn’t help it, her lip began to quiver, and she started to cry.

She was so hungry. Seeing Nadette’s tears, Bonnie pulled something out of her pocket. A pastry. “Here. I…um…you need it more than I do, right now.” Without even thinking, Nadette snatched the food out of her hands, and shoveled it down. Ever since then, Bonnie looked out for Nadette and Nadette for Bonnie.

“NADETTE.” Nadette snapped out of her memories and back into reality. Clutching Nadette’s skirt, was Bonnie, “Quit staring,” she whispered angrily. “It’s rude.”  Nadette gulped, her eyes widening, and she could feel the heat rising in her cheeks. “I…um…I was just…” “Just nothing, Nadette. I swear sometimes you are a total nut.”  

Nadette followed Bonnie, her wrist loosing circulation from the death grip Bonnie had on her.

“Girls, girls!” Someone called. The two turned to see the town Elder, Bickford. Nadette smiled, she always had liked Bickford, he was like the father she never had. “Nadette,” Bickford gasped, out of breath. His eyes flicked over to Bonnie and then back to Nadette. I know that look, Nadette thought to herself. Even though the two never said it, Bickford and Bonnie had never cared for each other. Nadette never knew why.

“I need to talk to you….alone.” Nadette stepped over to Bonnie, handing her Nadette’s basket, “Sorry, Bonnie. Do you mind if I go ahead?” Bonnie sighed, a stray of her blond hair flying up above her. “Alright, just be home for supper,” Bonnie said. Nadette gave her a smile of thanks, then stepped over to Bickford. “Ready?”